Wallmaker
by melted-sunshine
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Isade is the only child of the Wallmaker, now a near-extinct family. Set over 1,000 years before the Old Kingdom Trilogy starts.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Old Kingdom (c) Garth Nix

"Concentrate, you stupid girl!" Her father yelled. Isade trembled, sweating beneath her clothing and armour.

"Sorry, father."

It was cool here, and beautiful. The island had one fairly pretty tree, but a crude makeshift tent propped against it, obscuring the most aesthetic feature of the strip of land. One might say the river was beautiful, if one appreciated beauty in bleak, dangerous things. Its swift flowing currents would drown or crush you instantly. One could suggest the beauty of nature, how it linked everything together, but again, several figures looked out-of place here, corroding the idea.

A older man stood next to a younger woman in the sole patch of land that had any kind of foliage- short, stunted berry bushes, purple smears from over-ripe berries on their faces and hands. They both wore stiff battle dresses, with thin cotton overcoats emblazoned with the Wallmaker's trowel in silver. Brown leather jackets protected them from most of the waterfall's spray, and the jackets bugled strangely in places. Every inch of this strange garment housed a crammed pocket, and the Wallmaker and his daughter wore pouches across their chests- containing trowels, miniature brushes, quills, ink, diaries, herbs and properties from thyme to silver and gold, bone, rowan, elder, sharp woodcut knives, half-finished daggers, even coal and flint. The woman had her eyes squeezed shut, and her fists were balled tight at her sides. She'd performed spells of this magnitude before, but it required concentration. The Wallmaker had taught her much- but she had much to learn still. She looked almost like him- her pallid skin, although, was more due to her (mis)adventures in death, and her mousy brown hair was only laced with white. His eyes, an almost opaque grey, were her exact pigment. At seventeen, she was too tall, taking after both her father and mother.

Isade closed her mind, and focused solely on the never-ending flow of Charter. Her father and her had planned the string of marks needed in the shorthand of her Charter diary. Over the past weeks of his absence, she finally brought forth an appropriate master marks to complete the spell. This spell needed to be spread over the whole island. The power required was too great for a normal seventeen-year-old, and almost beyond Isade. The Wallmaker would aid her, in case anything went wrong.

The Charter blazed to life in her mind. _Relax, Isade. _Her heart sped up, she wasn't ready. She couldn't do this. She would fail the Wallmaker.

"Isade, focus!"

Slowly, she eased the first string of marks from the golden flow- they came slowly, and had to be teased out of her mind. The next one, she fumbled. It ripped through her mind, and flung itself towards the others. Only Isade's effort kept it under control, forgetting everything she read in her father's texts.

Quarter of an hour later, and she was still struggling with the spell. She'd managed a shallow pool of charter, which flared brightly against the dirt and bushes.

Now was the time for the first master mark.

"Steady, girl," her father cautioned. "You're doing well."

The Abhorsen-in-waiting crept out of the tent, took one glance at Isade's mother, who was using charter marks to stick to the river bottom, smoothing the stepping stones and cross-hatching them for safe grip across the turbulent water, another at Isade and the Wallmaker calling a powerful ward, and groaned. "Seriously?" He demanded. "Can we pick another island? One… away from the waterfall… Please?" he threw a vicious glance at the island, and stormed back into the tent.

"Emeritus!" Isade gasped. Making sure she had hold of the charter buzzing around her like angry bees, she started after him. "Wait, Emeritus! Wait!" She cried desperately.

"ISADE!" The Wallmaker bellowed. "Leave the Abhorsen-in-training alone! You just about finished the first procession, girl! Do want to ruin all the work you've done by comforting a boy who can manage by himself? No! Get on with it! I'll tell you what, if you finish this master mark and another after this, you can go. Hurry up! You're losing the spell!"

With a picture of Emeritus's face, which about now would be dour, Isade could easily complete the first master mark. It rocked through her body, and was followed by another, and another. The spell seemed to stream through her fingers without conscious thought- and they were the right marks. More and more followed, faster and faster. The first that was _not _supposed to be in the spell crept through with the others, but Isade didn't notice. The whipped through her, burning her, so fast she couldn't distinguish the marks. It was all golden light, pain, and dizziness. She couldn't control the flow, and master mark after master mark blazed through her head, she was steadily losing energy. She could hear her father shouting… but didn't understand what he was saying. The spell had a life of its own in front of her, forming the complete ward. Adrenaline shot through her- she was going to live, and complete the entire spell! The shock gave her the concentration needed as the last few marks slipped from the stream, and into the charter that crackled and blazed before her eyes. As her heart stopped its racing, disbelief took its place. She couldn't of done this…

"Excellent, Isade," the Wallmaker said, now expertly handling the ward, "it usually feels odd for the first time. With practise, spells like that can come as easy to your mind as Emeritus. It's our family trait, to handle spells usually beyond a human's power, though, your first quarter hour needs work…" _Emeritus. _With a jolt, she realised she'd forgotten all about him. Emeritus! Her mind and heart leapt, and her tiredness and pride went away. How long was it from when he ran away?

"… I was expecting you only to partially complete the spell, it is unusual for a Wallmaker-in-training at your age to complete…"

"Father!"

"-Wha-what?" He sounded annoyed to be interrupted mid-speech.

"Is Emeritus still in the tent? How long has it been?"

The Wallmaker quickly caught on. "About… an hour, or two, and yes. I haven't seen him leave, so…"

Isade had already left, tearing through the bushes, pelting towards the tent.

_Girls, _the Wallmaker thought. Never knew when to listen to important lectures, or think about their infatuations.

* * *

AN: A series set over 1,000 years before the trilogy started. I hope you like it ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Old Kingdom (c) Garth Nix

A/N: Just to make it clear, Sabriel's father's name wasn't _Emeritus_. Emeritus isn't a usual name (at least, outside of this story's time). Emeritus is a suffix added to the end of someone's name that is retired but still has that title, and honour- Doctor Emeritus, Professor Emeritus, Abhorsen Emeritus etc. Just so you know, Abhorsen's name was Terciel ; )

* * *

The tent was some relief from the sun's glare, if not the heat. It smelled too, of leather and armour and sweat. Two makeshift beds were crammed in a corner, a low table next to them, piles of books and gear- some made by her- balanced precariously on top. On one of the beds, was a frustrated-looking man. His curly brown hair and dark eyes didn't resemble his fathers' looks, and his mother had died before Isade was born.

"Sorry, Isade," He said. "I… just don't want to stay here is all. This island, this heat, is driving me mad!"

"I know, I know," Isade moved to Emeritus's bed. He had stripped off his dusty armour, and his sword and bells lay inches away from his fingers. He was exhausted, Isade noted. His father was away somewhere in the north, and Emeritus had only returned today, from some expedition or another in an effort to rid the world from dead and free magic constructs. Not that free magic was bad, most of the time. It can be a useful and interesting property, if used properly. Of course, the free magic that Emeritus vanquished was another story. "But the island is an excellent defence for the dead."

"I'd rather fight a hundred dead- at least I'd be in my own bed!" Emeritus snapped.

"Father says we'll start construction tomorrow. And as for a bed…"

"There are a hundred things not on this Charter forsaken place I'd rather die than be without. A nice, warm, comfortable bed makes the top five, though." He sat up. "And Abhorsen won't be here tonight." Bitterness seeped into his voice. "Yrael isn't company."

"Nonsense. Yrael is very… um- nice. Please, cheer up. Your mood is starting to annoy me… actually, I have a few spells I want to try out- they could make you happier, I was thinking of putting them in an-"  
"Its my birthday tomorrow." Emeritus whispered. "Eighteen. Manhood. And Abhorsen won't be here tonight."

"Oh, Emeritus!" She suddenly embraced him, which was actually rather awkward, as the bulges in her pockets made hugging almost impossible. After a few seconds of silence, she stiffly detached herself, blushing. "Is this why you're glum? You think your father has forgotten? You think _I've _forgotten? Since when do I forget your birthdays?" The pair had known each other for a very long time. "I never forget, you know that. When Father left to see the Clayr, they said we'd finish construction at least in the next decade… and the house would stand for many centuries! Come, let me show you all the work we've done. This will cheer you up. It's actually quite a marvellous piece of land."

* * *

"And when we start building- which is tomorrow, by the way- we'll chop this tree thing down, and plant a fig right here!" Isade and Emeritus were standing, close together, in front of the tent. They didn't notice the sunlight gently leak into a soft twilight, nor the sounds of the daytime creatures gradually die away.

"Any reason it will be a fig tree? Why not a maple, or oak, or pine, or…?"

"Hmm…" Isade's fingers idly tapped her breast pocket, where she put the diary and plans. "No idea," she concluded. "I guess it was because father and I was eating mother's famous fig tart at the time. Why not? Does it have to be maple, or oak, or pine, my liege?"

"No," Emeritus grumbled.

"You have a problem with fig?"

"No."

"Good!"

Emeritus, who was a mildly skilled charter mage, couldn't identify half the charter she pointed out to him. He bluffed that he did, even if she didn't buy it for a second. Hidden wards growled at him beneath the grass, sendings brushed cold fingers at his neck and arms. He shivered, and clutched Isade's hand closer.

"They won't hurt you," Isade cheerfully pointed out. "I did that one myself. Its name is Sombre."

"Why did you call it Sombre? Why did you even give it a name at all?"

"When the house is built, Sombre will become a domestic sending, rather than a guard one. I think I gave it a little bit too much personality, I'm afraid how that will warp over time… hmm… let me show you our Channel!"

A small, seemingly harmless, white cat darted between the patches of grass. It crouched low, and it twitched its ears this way and that. Its tail flicked dangerously. This thing could only be called a cat on the basis of appearance, and anyone who wears the Charter on their forehead could easily read the warnings inscribed on the thing's red leather collar. Any necromancer, skilled or not, could recognise the binding bell that tinkled softly every now and then. The thing ignored the sendings that grudgingly let it past, their hand on their swords. In fact, the thing only focused on the young man in front of it. The thing knew enough of the girl's kind, and the dangers they posed. It had not forgotten what they had done to it. The girl was still in flower, but she would grow to become as powerful, if not more, than her parents, given time. The Abhorsen-in-waiting, the thing knew, was attracted to this girl, and had been for a long time. As far as the Abhorsen-in-waiting knew, the girl only thought of their relationship in terms of friendship. He was a reserved boy, shy and timid, but ferocious in battle. The thing had often seen that. He would become a very wise and sensible master after his father's passing. The thing pushed its small, pink tongue out in annoyance. It would prefer to have an idiot for a master. It had more of a chance getting free that way.

* * *

"Finally, this was my work this morning- or was it this afternoon? I've forgotten. Time passes so quickly if you're not careful!" They were in the berry bush patch. Bees lazily buzzed around them, in the last heat of the afternoon.

Isade had been waiting for this moment, to present him perhaps her most ambitious piece of work. She'd carefully planned the wording, how she presented herself as she said this, so as not to come across too boastful. "Do you know what it is?"

She felt the gooey warmth of triumph, so long in waiting, tingle from head to toe. Emeritus, two years her elder, didn't know what this magic was. "It's a complicated bit of magic. It helps to-"

"It's a _ward_!" Emeritus gasped. "How can you… but… if I practised for… how long did it…" He struggled to find words to match his amazement.

"I could never fight off that monster from the fifth prenidict like you did. Never in a hundred years. In fact, the only reason I didn't run away screaming, was because you were there!" She blushed, at first, at the meaning of her words, and then the truth behind them. "This is my expertise. My seventeen years of training. We are different, Emeritus."

"But what does it do...? I can't put my finger on it…"

"You can't break it. You will, in time, but only the current Abhorsen can, or could. It stretches the whole island- and it makes entry to death…"

"Impossible!"

"Exactly. Try it out."

He did, feeling his way into death, but only to be ricochet back by a barrier not unlike an iron shield. A solid wall of charter, barring entry or exit from the cold waters of Death. Infinitely more dangerous than the Rattlin. And was that a hint of free magic? Couldn't be. "Wow. That's amazing. And depressing. No more getting off work anymore."

"I hope that wasn't seriousness in your voice, my man," She joked.

"I am seriously proud of you, and afraid, too. Please don't blast me with your fiery might any time soon. Remind me to stay on your good side."

Isade bit back a smile.

The only good thing about that girl's power, the creature thought, was that she would have to shuck her physical body sooner than the other Wallmakers. The thing was surprised, too. That magic was created at the beginning and most of it hadn't been used since. It was dark, dangerous magic and not a thing normal children would freely choose to profess. But this was the Wallmaker brood, then again. They were always boastful and rash. Idiots like that should _not_ be given the power to entrap higher beings, like itself.

Later, Isade and Emeritus stood at the very end of the island, the trail of their tunics just catching water. She looked at the empty space and saw buildings, trees, gardens and Charter. A blank canvas begging to be filled. He saw family, gatherings, and a safe haven. "Thanks for showing me this, Isade." He said.

"No trouble. You were sad, and I want to make you happy."

Emeritus felt the warmth of her pale, charter-etched hand gripping his, and took comfort from it. He wanted to say anything, do anything, to indicate his feelings for her. Like when this afternoon she game in and hugged him- he could feel, even through his clothing, her body against his. Even draping his arm casually over her shoulders, firmly in the realm of companionship, was beyond him. He just wanted to do something, anything. He began to think he'd rather face a free magic necromancer without any bells or swords in the further reaches of death than… begin to consort her. I have to someday, he reasoned, so why shouldn't it be today? What should he do? Why did he feel so helpless?

Isade shifted her footing, bringing the Abhorsen-in-waiting sharply back to reality.

"I have to go soon," She said, her eyes lingering on their hands.

In the deepening shade, the cat-creature snickered, and darted off to find its stash of fish.

* * *


End file.
